L'esprit de l'escalier
by labyrinths
Summary: Part of the Cinq Fois series of stories. Elizabeth is rendered speechless by Jack. JE


**-****_ L'esprit de l'escalier -_**

_Authors Note: Third of five pieces each with a title in French. They are not necessarily interconnected but they each share one trait in common: they all have to do with a famous French phrase (I am calling this little exercise Cinq Fois). See note at end of story for meaning of the title._

Elizabeth watched the Pearl pull away from the dock with her arms solidly crossed and a defiant expression upon her face. Well, good riddance. Finally that horrible man was out of her life and quickly sailing into nowhere which was fine with her.

She could not believe that on the last day that they had spent together instead of actually having a pleasant, amicable time Jack Sparrow had spent the entire morning reeking of rum and singing with increasing strength that song she'd once taught him.

Why had she taught it to him? He only used it to annoy her.

Irritated, Elizabeth had been, in response to this behaviour, stolidly hiding behind Mr. Gibbs. She knew Jack would not approach her directly if Mr.Gibbs was in the way. Jack was forced to sing to himself and make jokes to the table and she narrowed her eyes, thinking about how much she hated him.

Indecent pig. Her blood was still boiling from the incident the previous night.

She wasn't sure exactly how it happened but she found herself sharing a bottle of rum with Jack.

He could be very persuasive and charming when he wanted to. So when Jack said she ought to go for a walk with him around the docks she had agreed.

They ended up at the beach, her toes digging into the sand as they watched the stars. Jack was pointing out constellations, his fingers tracing their shapes, until he stopped mid-sentence to wiggle an eyebrow at her.

"You know Lizzie, we're probably not going to see each other again as you'll be marrying your incredibly boring fiancée, William Turner."  
Now that they'd defeated Davy Jones and received a full pardon this would have been the expected outcome but any prospects of a wedding were growing dimmer. Somehow the events of the past few months had inexorably altered their course, a wedge had grown between Elizabeth and William.

William was not unpleasant about it. Never. He was too kind for that. But Elizabeth sensed that when he looked at her he saw a different woman, not the one he had fallen in love with. Even if they had not discussed it at length, except for a brief interlude, Elizabeth had garnered enough hints and tidbits to know William would be heading to Kingston as soon as he managed to settle his business affairs in Port Royale.

Elizabeth did not mention this to Jack because it was none of his business and because somehow it was a secret between William and herself. There was no need to publicly humiliate him in front of the whole crew and face the curious questions of strangers. Once back in Port Royale, William could slip quietly away.

She also would not dare mention anything to Jack because … well, she just wouldn't. Things with Jack were complicated enough, both of them standing on the edge of a razor, and she did not wish to upset the balance. Elizabeth did not even want to consider the possibility that, well … no, it was idiotic. Elizabeth was going back home and Jack was going wherever nasty pirates went and that was the end of it.

"Lizzie, I like you very much and maybe if Turner was not in the picture who knows, who knows," he drawled, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Peas in a pod and all, who knows? No Lizzie? Maybe it might have worked. God knows I would've tried to be at least half-decent and washed more often for you."

Elizabeth stared at him in wonder. Was he about to propose to her again? He'd done so once aboard the Pearl but she wasn't sure how she would answer this time, her stomach in a knot and the thought of home suddenly ebbing away while the thought of Jack grew stronger, intoxicating her.

"But considering the whole you getting married to Will and you returning to Port Royale is underway, and this is only a short stop in Tortuga for us to stock on goods and food items and rest and … Well, I was thinking, us being apart and all and not seeing much of one and the other perhaps you'd like to provide me with a, shall we say, delightful memory for the lonely nights in my cabin. What do you say love? One last taste of freedom."  
For once in her life Elizabeth had been rendered utterly and absolutely speechless. Quickly ripping his hand off her shoulder she proceeded to run away.

That was the end of that.

She had spent the rest of the night pondering scathing answer she had might given him.

'I would never debase myself with someone as low as yourself' was a contender for the top prize, but 'You sir are a filthy, ridiculous pig' had a nice ring to it and a simple 'Never' had an old-fashioned charm.

But she'd said nothing, running away like a scared little girl as he chuckled.

She ought to have slapped him, she ought to have kissed him, she ought to have kicked some sand in his face, she ought to have done something different except standing there like a dumb, dumb girl who rushed off scared with a whimper.

Jack Sparrow be damned.

And then, suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks. Clenching her teeth Elizabeth started running and promptly dove into the water, swimming like a mad woman.

Sputtering curses she was lifted aboard the Pearl. The first thing Elizabeth did was to walk straight towards Jack, ramming her index finger against his chest.

"You disgusting lout are not fit to kiss my boots!"

Which was an accurate description since she was wearing some rather large, manly boots.

She turned around, ready to head back to the docks now that little point had been settled.

Quickly, Jack pulled her towards him crushing her into a passionate embrace and an even more passionate kiss, his lips fervently coaxing her own.

When he drew back he was grinning.

"It's not your boots I'm after."

Once again gone mute, Elizabeth simmered knowing he'd stolen the last word from her.

"I hate you," she whispered, but tilted her head up for a second kiss.

_Translation: L'esprit de l'escalier is a French phrase. According to Michael Quinion:_

" _(it) originally refers to that infuriating situation in which you leave a drawing room and are halfway down the stairs before you suddenly think of that devastatingly witty comment you could have made."_

_Regarding the previous entries in this series, Enfant Terrible means Terrible Child, literally a wild child while Déjà vu is that sensation you sometimes have that you have already lived through an event._

_Au revoir and see you during the next entry of Cinq Fois. _


End file.
